My First Trip from Abidjan to Yamoussoukro – Tales of a New Traveller

There is something magical about seeing a country for the first time—not through airports and business meetings, but through its roads, towns, forests, and the everyday life unfolding on the highway. As a Ghanaian traveller journeying from Abidjan to Yamoussoukro for the very first time, I documented my impressions in real time. What began as idle observations soon became a story of contrasts—discipline and disorder, beauty and neglect, progress and the gaps that remain.

Leaving Abidjan: Order, Traffic, and First Impressions

The journey kicked off with heavy traffic leaving Abidjan, not unlike Accra on a busy weekday morning. But once we eased out of the city, the excellence of the Ivorian road infrastructure became immediately apparent. I had travelled several kilometres without encountering a single pothole. The expressway was smooth, wide, and disciplined—a three-lane dual carriageway stretching all the way to Yamoussoukro.

The first thing that caught my eye were the unique road boulders—four-legged structures painted mainly red and white, unlike anything I’ve seen in Ghana. They stood as part of the roadside furniture, functional yet almost artistic in their design.

Electric Poles, Clean Lines, and Côte d’Ivoire’s Love for Order

One of the most striking features along the highway was the abundance of concrete electric poles. Not a single wooden or teak pole in sight. They came in various sizes, clearly engineered for different voltages, with grooves to aid climbing. The power lines themselves were neat and orderly—more like Ghana, far from the chaotic spaghetti of wires one might see in other parts of West Africa. I will not mention names, though we beat the Joloff War. Are they laughing at us that we are not the AFCON? Well, they also did not make it when the world’s best meet at the Mundial in 2026.

Green, Lush, and Well Kept

The greenery was stunning. Thick, lush forests flanked both sides of the road, a ribbon of asphalt cutting through an expanse of deep green. Even the grass on the shoulders and medians was well kept. I saw workers actively trimming the vegetation using mechanised mowers, fully kitted out in PPE, cones placed strategically for safety. A refreshing sight for any West African traveller familiar with more laissez-faire approaches.

Interestingly, billboards were fewer and smaller, never obstructing the driver’s line of sight. It made the journey feel open and uncluttered.

And everywhere—the Ivorian national colours. Orange, white, and green flags waved proudly along the way, an everyday reminder of national identity.

Toll Culture: Efficiency With a Few Questions

We encountered several toll booths along the route. Payments were made in cash, and although I didn’t observe digital payment systems, the setup appeared functional. Many booths even had air conditioning for toll collectors, and public toilets situated nearby (though not always well used).

A curious observation: some drivers did not collect their tickets, raising questions about accountability in toll management.

Littering, Indiscipline, and a Few Surprises

While Côte d’Ivoire impressed me in many ways, the journey was not without disappointments.

There were choked gutters in some areas and visible loads of plastic waste. In places where roadside vendors gathered, the littering was heavy—surprising for a country I had imagined to be more disciplined than Ghana.

Closer to Abidjan, traffic indiscipline reared its head. Drivers used the shoulder of the road freely, even with police officers close by. At one point, our own driver did the same, and no one seemed bothered.

Public urination also occurred despite the presence of public toilets at toll stations—a reminder that infrastructure alone cannot change behaviour.

Motorbikes, Markets, and Roadside Life

Motorbikes were abundant, ferrying both people and goods, though interestingly I spotted far fewer tricycles than in Ghana. As we moved out of Abidjan, industries dotted the roadside—a timber processing plant among them—and the occasional roadside market, often surrounded by disappointing filth.

I also noticed CCTV cameras along the route, reinforcing the sense of a monitored and managed road system.

Driving Discipline—and a Few Human Moments

One of the most impressive things was how disciplined drivers were about the speed lane. As soon as a vehicle approached from behind, drivers moved aside almost instinctively.

Our own driver set a good example—at least for most of the trip. He refused to pick calls while driving, although he eventually succumbed and slowed down to answer one.

He relied on a mobile app that beeped whenever we approached a speed camera—a common tool in these parts, apparently.

The allowable speed was 110 km/h, and most drivers seemed to respect it. In Ghana we only do a maximum of 80 km/h.

Sights Along the Way: Forests, Farms, and Community Gaps

The further we drove, the greener it became. Côte d’Ivoire’s forest reserves stood tall and proud, clearly marked and well protected.

We passed sprawling palm plantations, vast agricultural stretches, and the occasional facility such as a large factory near kilometre 164 labelled “Robust.”

Unlike in Ghana—where new bypasses quickly attract settlement, hawkers, and mechanics—the Ivorian expressway maintained clear boundaries. No encroachment, no communities built up close to the road, and large pedestrian bridges serving distant settlements.

At Singobo, I saw Fulani herdsmen guiding large herds of cattle peacefully across the grasslands.

We also passed a broken-down commercial bus whose stranded passengers had littered the surroundings as they waited. Near another point, a prayer camp stood silently by the road—a reminder of the spiritual tapestry of West Africa.

Arrival Signs: Akwaba and a Sense of Shared Identity

Hours into the trip, drifting in and out of sleep, I looked up just in time to see a sign that warmed my Ghanaian heart: “Akwaba”—welcome. A shared Akan heritage, a reminder that across colonial borders, we remain one people.

And still, the road remained fully asphalted—smooth and unwavering.

Conclusion: A Journey of Contrasts

My first road trip from Abidjan to Yamoussoukro was an eye-opener. It revealed a Côte d’Ivoire that is disciplined yet imperfect, beautiful yet flawed. A country investing heavily in road safety, infrastructure, and national identity, but still grappling with challenges like waste management and pockets of indiscipline.

Yet, the overall experience was refreshing, enlightening, and deeply enjoyable. As a Ghanaian, I couldn’t help but reflect on what we could learn from our neighbours—and what we share with them as West Africans navigating the rich, complex terrain of our continent.

I look forward to my next trip. Perhaps next time, I’ll stay awake long enough not to miss the intriguing bits in between. I will tell my story soon about the mining olympiades, the reason I was there. The Groupement Professionnel des Miniers / Chamber of Mines Côte d’Ivoire are great hosts. The people of Côte d’Ivoire can hold a party.